


Fever

by robogreaser



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Hallucinations, Illnesses, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robogreaser/pseuds/robogreaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Summoner has just survived an altercation with the Grand Highblood and crawls to Darkleer's doorstep looking for a doctor. Things spiral out of control from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

He was unexpected.

Darkleer was not a troll used to having houseguests, and _he_ was not expected. This fellow was brazen and far too many shades too warm to be considered proper companionship. Although, lying unconscious on the sofa wasn’t very companion-y to begin with.

He had tripped over him, to be honest. Darkleer had literally tripped over the mutant while taking an ill-advised stroll out of his caves. And, never being one for hospitality, it took a few rounds of arguing with himself before deciding to drape the brownblood over his shoulders and take his bruised and battered body back home. He’d nurse him back to health. He had nothing better to do anyway.

***

It was two days later that Darkleer’s houseguest woke from his stupor. The stranger was alone in a dim room; both legs heavily bandaged from the knees down, one arm in a cast from wrist to elbow, his neck in a brace, and his face stitched up. His chest armor was still intact, his leggings only torn to allow the bandaging.

The pain was incredible. He couldn’t sit up.

“I see that you’ve finally awoken,” Darkleer said as he entered to room. The battered houseguest couldn’t move to face the unknown voice. He seized up. “Do not be afraid. I have taken great care to treat your injuries to the best of my ability. I mean you no harm,”

“I trust no one,” the stranger spat.

“That is understandable if not pitiful.” Darkleer raised the lights to let his guest get a good look at his savior.

“A blueblooded oaf is my host?” the stranger asked, both surprise and agitation on his tongue.

“Is it such a problem that the someone who has spent days tending to your brutalized body is a certain shade of blue?” Darkleer asked.

“Considering all the fighting I’ve been doing with your kind, yeah, it’s a problem.”

“If that’s the case I can remove the splints and bandages and braces and turn you out. But I don’t want to. In fact, now that you’re conscious, I would appreciate your permission to tend to the wounds littering your chest and abdomen,” Darkleer said as he stepped forward.

“Why’d you need my permission? Or is this some charade? You tryin’ to get me to lower my guard?” the stranger asked.

“It’d be lewd otherwise,”

“Oh,” the guest said before taking inventory of the pain engulfing his torso. There was at least one broken rib. He had to have had several lacerations along his stomach. There were several pulses of pain in the fork of his legs as well. “You really mean me no harm?” the stranger asked. Darkleer nodded. “Then yeah, continue,” he mumbled, unsure of his situation. “I’ll try ‘n’ get this armor off if you’d—“

“Don’t strain yourself.” Darkleer pressed on his patients shoulder with the tips of his gloved fingers to keep him from rising. “I designed these uniforms many sweeps ago, I know how they work.” And with that Darkleer pressed against several points along the matte black plastic. With several clicks the patients torso was released from its formfitting prison, once intended to prevent injury.

The pain increased. It was exponentially worse. The patient blacked out.

***

It took another three days of intensive care from Expatriate Darkleer for his houseguest to be well enough to regain consciousness.

Darkleer had a hell of a time trying to locate every single problem hidden across the taught grey flesh blotted everywhere with amber blood. It was hell seeing such a beautiful specimen of a troll battered to within an inch of his life.

Darkleer had bit his tongue as he stitched of gash and realigned each bone and bandaged the left thigh and washed everything. This troll might have hated him for being blueblooded, but that didn’t change the fact he was attractive as—

Darkleer slapped himself as he rinsed the blood off of the stranger’s back.

He thanked his own ingenuity during those three days. If it weren’t for his de-strengthening suit he’s have crushed this poor fellow the instant he tried picking him up off of the gravelly hillside. He’d have mutilated him on the operating table for sure. He’d have ripped off his bulge as he tried cleaning the blood off of his—

Darkleer slapped himself as he recalled such a lewd act.

He could give this stranger all the medical care and expertise in his body, but it didn’t change the fact he didn’t even know his patient’s name.

“Could I get some water up in here or what?”

Darkleer jumped as his patient called out from the other side of the room. “You’re awake!”

“No shit,” the stranger said, a groan coming to life as he pushed his body off of the metal slab Darkleer used as an operating table and bed.

“Please don’t strain yourself. You are far too weak to attempt such activity,” Darkleer leapt up and tried to calm his patient.

“Don’t get your panties in knot,” his patient swatted Darkleer away. “I’m fine,”

“No,” Darkleer forced his patient back. “You’ve suffered four broken ribs, several dozen lacerations and gashes along your torso, a broken wrist, two broken tibias, a fractured clavicle, a dislocated shoulder, and a broken femur among other unmentionable injuries,”

“And?”

“And that means so long as you’re in my care, I’ll be damned if you overexert yourself and make things any worse than they already are,” Darkleer said, ending the debate.

“Fine. Can you get me some water though? My mouth is drier than Spinneret’s sense of humor.”

Darkleer froze.

***

One introduction and glass of water later and Darkleer and Summoner were in a lengthy discussion as to how the mutant brownblood ended up on Darkleer’s doorstep on the verge of death. And, as Darkleer had guessed, a certain cerulean ne'er do well had something to do with it.

“I got that purple freaks horns all bashed in sideways when his goons bust through the door and—”

“Pardon my interruption,” Darkleer said. “But you managed to infiltrate the Grand Highblood’s compound, entered into a series of vicious altercations with him and managed to escape to my doorstep? That seems like the stuff of legend,”

“Good!” Summoner beamed. “I better be a legend in the end. I’m liberating the lowblood masses. I’m changing history. I’m making this world a better place. I’ll be damned if I ain’t no legend.” Summoner tried to recline on his table, but had nowhere to go. He just lay there and gave Darkleer a smirk.

“So it was Mindfang who sent you here, was it?” he asked his guest quietly.

“Yup. She’s pretty great with this kind of stuff. You know, hiding from ruthless highbloods and strategizing attacks and all that jazz. Yup, Mindfang is pretty damn great,” Summoner sighed a dreamy sigh. His eyes were starting to glaze over just thinking about the blue vixen.

“I assume you’re in relations with her then,” Darkleer sighed.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,”

Darkleer stood and walked over to the troll on the table. With a sweep of his hands he grabbed his patients head and held it still under the glaring lights.

“What gives!?” Summoner yelped. “Let go of me you bastard!”

“Hmmm.” Darkleer mumbled as he pondered the look on the Summoner’s face. “Dialated pupils, slightly discolored corneas, clammy skin.” Darkleer let go of his patients face. “How long have you been in a matespritship with the Marquise?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Please, if you wished to be healed properly you’ll disclose such trivial information,”

“I’ve been in the flushed quadrant with her for a little over a sweep,”

“As I expected,” Darkleer sighed and fell into his seat. “Summoner, I’d be honored to heal someone with such aspirations as yours, but your matesprit’s interference in your psyche may pose an obstacle to your recovery,”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” the Summoner asked, offended at the insinuation.

“Do you not know of her abilities. Those of the hypnotic kind?” Darkleer asked.

“What are you getting at?”

“She’s been manipulating you. She has her hypnotic tendrils in your head at this very moment. I don’t know if you are into that kind of thing, but then again I am in no place to judge. Regardless, you must realize that it’s a massive impediment to your healing. If you cannot be in full control of your body, there is no way I can offer you the fullest extent of my services.”

“What the hell are talkin’ about?”

“Summoner,” Darkleer seized one of his guest’s arms. “If you were to have a slight discomfort but were under her trance, you might not be aware of it. If you were to somehow overlook your ailments because you are not in complete control of your facilities, that could pose a disturbing problem for my services in tending to your health,”

“Wha—”

“And furthermore,” Darkleer seized The Summoner’s head between his two gloved hands once more, his deep blue gaze boring into his eyes. “Spinneret, if you had any respect for this good troll, you’d vacate his mind this instant. I know you’re paying attention, it must take much effort for you to exert you’re influence while your matesprit is in my company. If you care for him at all, you will allow him his mind and me the proper opportunity to heal him,”

“What are you—?”

“And Spinneret, if you had any respect for me, as a friend and as the troll who replaced your arm after that incident, you would also respect my wishes in this matter. Please,” Darkleer said. He let go of his patients face and exited the room in silence. The Summoner was speechless to say the least. He had no idea someone could A) be so mistrusting of the Marquise and B) so blunt with her and—

Something shifted.

Summoner reached up to cover his eyes rubbing away the pain at his temples wasn’t enough. There was a rush of throbbing pain. His skin went cold. His eyes started watering. His head was on fire.

Everything went dark.

***

It took several hours for the Summoner to reoccupy his conscious mind. The feeling was so old, the one where he didn’t have that matesprit induced fog on his brain, that he spent his time thinking all the thoughts the Marquise had suppressed. Like fantasizing about other trolls and crafting his own strategy to deal with highbloods.

This was nice. But it was bound to end.

He cracked his eyes open to the sight of Darkleer hovering at his side, examining his wounds, changing his bandages and taking his temperature.

“You happen to be running a fever. I couldn’t pinpoint it earlier because of the interference,” Darkleer said, turning to throw away the bloodied gauze. He faced Summoner and jabbed a needle in his arm before he could speak.

The medication pumped throughout his body. He fell asleep.

That was the first day.

***

The medications only helped for a few hours at a time. By the third day Summoner was hallucinating. Darkleer paid no mind as he changed the festering bandages again and removed two sets of stitches. He got up to dispose of the medical waste. Summoner watched him leave his bedside with a shimmer in his eye.

“It’s no big deal Horuss,” Summoner drawled out, a smirk crossing his lips.

Darkleer froze.

“What in Alternia did you just call me, brownblood?” Darkleer growled. He hadn’t used that name in scores of sweeps. How would this lowblood know—

“What’s with the hostility man? I ain’t ever seen you get so mad with me. Not like that. What’s up babe?”

“Babe?” Darkleer muttered. He turned to see the Summoner sweating big droplets, his face flushed bronze and his wings twitching in spasms. “What’s wrong with you Summoner?”

“Summoner?  Horuss, babe, just call me Rufioh. I was just messing around when I was telling you about that whole adult title shenanigan thing. I wasn’t being serious. Dude. _Babe_ , you know I ain’t gonna grow up for a long while. Chill.”

Darkleer paced across the room to the metal table where the Summoner was succumbing to his fever. Darkleer pressed a palm against Summoner’s clammy grey forehead. He was burning up. “Summoner, I think it’s time for an ice bath.”

“Horuss, seriously dude, _chill_. I know you get uptight and all formal and shit about titles and ranking and all that sick business, but just call me Rufioh. You know I love that. You’re my doll, my ever lovin’ matesprit, please just cool it,”

“Matespirt?” Darkleer pulled back. He hadn’t ever set eyes on this troll before he dragged his mutilated body onto his doorstep, and yet—

“Now tell me why the hell I’m gonna need an ice bath?”

“Sum— Rufioh,” Darkleer resigned to playing along with whatever hallucinations the Summoner was having. “Rufioh, you’re sick. You have a horrendous fever. I need to cool you down. Quick.” And with that Darkleer bent over and scooped the fairy-troll up as gently as possible, bridal style, and started across the room and up the stairs.

***

Horuss— _Darkleer_ — sat by the Summoner’s side as he poured cold water over his head, trying his hardest to satiate the fever’s heat. They were in the bathroom, Summoner splayed inside of the ablution trap filled with ice water. It was infection induced, there was no other explanation, and it was probably from when the Grand Highblood ripped out that lewd piercing. Darkleer shook his head.

And it didn’t help that the Summoner was increasingly lucid in his hallucinations. Darkleer sighed as he recounted some children’s animations to him and scooped another ladleful of melting ice over his head.

“Ya know doll, if you want to ‘cool me off’ you could always try that trick I showed you the other night,” Summoner said with a sly wink. Darkleer rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry Rufioh, you’ll have to remind me,” Darkleer said, his disinterest in the conversation dripping off his tongue.

“Oh, how’d you forget?” Summoner took his turn at rolling his eyes. He then pushed himself up in one quick motion and snatched at Darkleer’s collar. Darkleer was too slow to pull back as the Summoner pulled him in closer with a glint in his eyes. “I thought you said you loved this?”

Darkleer was too slow.

Summoner reached for the zipper at the top of his suit and yanked down, exposing most of his well-built grey chest. “Ruf-f-ioh, what, pray tell, are you doing?”

“I’m gonna give you a demonstration, Horuss, babe,” Summoner winked again as he pulled at Darkleer’s glowing suit and began climbing out of his ice bath. Darkleer was too dumbstruck to retaliate. “Let’s cool off,”

_How could this be happening?_

Summoner pulled the zipper down farther to reveal Darkleer’s equally well defined abdomen. He leaned closer to the now sweating flesh. He puckered his lips and blew a stream of cool air out over Darkleer’s right nipple. Darkleer shuddered. Summoner continued until goose-bumps littered Darkleer’s pec.

This was the first flushed touch he had experience in sweeps. The last time was when he was in the service of the Grand—

Summoner was now blowing onto his other nipple while tweaking the other with his free hand. Darkleer gasped and the fever-inflicted Summoner, though clumsy with all of his wounds and bandages, looked up and climbed on top of Darkleer. The lowblood was slick and cold and tracing his bruised fingers all over Darkleer’s exposed flesh like a feather.

“How’d you forget all this?” Summoner asked as he started dabbing kisses all along Darkleer’s collarbones.

Darkleer didn’t move. It wasn’t that he _couldn’t_ , oh no he could probably throw Summoner off of him in an instant. No, Darkleer _wouldn’t_ move, for fear of crushing his lewd and provocative patient. The instant Summoner had unzipped his de-stregthening suit he had deactivated all the circuitry regulating Darkleer into a state of normalcy. It had been sweeps. Even now, faint traces of electric pathways could be seen on the blueblood’s body.

The Summoner was moving south, and although Darkleer’s bulge was worming its way out at all the attention, it would be a while before Summoner had managed to cover every square inch of Darkleer’s body with kisses and breathy touches. His hands however—

Darkleer let out a moan. Summoner was using a free hand to fondle Darkleer’s bulge and seedflap through his suit, alternating between a rough kneading and a gentle fondle. This stranger was hitting all the right spots.

“Like that Zahhak?” Summoner laughed. “Good, let’s get to the main event,” Summoner pushed himself up and brought himself further south to face Darkleer’s ever tightening crotch. He took the zipper in his teeth and pulled down, slower than molasses so his lover could feel every… single… tremble.

The suit was past the point of no return. Darkleer’s monstrous bulge was free and it snaked around Summoner’s head. Summoner’s eyes went wide.

“You’ve been keeping this from me? Dang Horuss, that’s cold,” Summoner laughed as he grabbed the cobalt beast and gave it a forceful tug before popping it in his mouth. Darkleer pressed his eyes shut and bit his lip, unable to handle all the attention. All the sensation. All the— _everything_.

No one had made love to him like this. No one had hit all the right spots. No one had ever understood his body so well. No one.

Summoner relished in Darkleer’s musk and taste. It was comforting, somehow, even in his delusional state to give his lover all the attention he could. Summoner took his free had and reached into Darkleer’s suit. It was a tight fit but the snugness made it all the more worthwhile as he reached down and around and prodded at Darkleer’s nook.

“Good God _fuck me Rufioh_!” Darkleer yelled, his hands clawing at the floor in wonderful agony. Summoner smiled around Darkleer’s bulge as he bobbed up and down. His fingers worked their way into his damp nook, prodding and poking around, looking for the glands and nodes to make Darkleer’s mind go afire.

His fingers began scissoring as he sucked harder, and pulled up and down, his tongue poking out of his mouth and trailing up and down the shaft soaked with spit and pre-cum. He tickled Darkleer’s seedflap with his other hand. Darkleer trembled.

Summoner pulled away and started tracing circles over Darkleer’s abs with his now-wet fingertips. Darkleer noticed the vacancies in his body and looked down at Summoner.

“Wait,” Darkleer gasped as Summoner sat up. “Why’d you stop? Oh goodness Summoner have you come to your senses, I’m so sorry—”

“Dude, chill out. You were close to the edge. I just didn’t want this to end so soon,” Summoner said, leaning forward and kissing Darkleer’s navel. He waited a minute or two for Darkleer’s bulge to stop thrashing around in lust. It shrunk a little before Summoner returned to work.

This time he put four fingers to work in the nook as he pumped the blue bulge with the other hand. He suckled at Darkleer’s seedflap the whole time, pre-cum everywhere. Summoner smiled as he worked. Making Horuss happy had always made him happy. That, and he tasted so much like blueberries. Or the fever just made it seem that way.

“Ru-fi- _oooh_ ,” Darkleer moaned louder as Summoner forced his thumb, and thus his whole hand, up into Darkleer’s tight nook. Now was the time for Summoner— _Rufioh_ —to prove his worth as a sexual genius. He located the cluster of nerves and the gland that sent Horuss ablaze and began tickling.

Darkleer bucked but Summoner kept his lips working. His tongue explored all over the base of Darkleer’s bulge, around the seedflap and down to the top of the nook. Summoner laughed as Darkleer arched even further off of the floor.

“You love this don’t you babe?” Summoner asked as he pumped Darkleer’s monster of a bulge faster, his hand gliding like a well-oiled piston considering how wet Darkleer was. His other hand was digging deeper, looking for yet another set of nodes inside his lover’s body.

Summoner found them. He pumped the bulge faster. Darkleer was a loud mess of moaning and shouts. Summoner was wrist deep in Darkleer. He rolled his thumb and forefinger around little lump inside of the sweaty mass of sex and muscles. Darkleer grabbed one of Summoner’s horns and squeezed.

It was as if Summoner had pushed a button and started Darkleer up. Like one of Darkleer’s many robots coming to life, he was coursing with electricity and pre-programmed responses. Summoner had hit the ignition switch, so to speak, hidden inside of Darkleer and brought to life a machine long left unattended.

His body convulsed. He was consumed with euphoria.

Synapses fired, chemicals were released, electricity tingled in his suit, and his bulge flushed genetic material all over his body and Summoner’s face. Tears of pleasure streamed from his eyes and a laugh escaped his mouth.

“Don’t I just make you feel the best doll?” Summoner asked as he dragged himself on top of a spasming Darkleer. He leaned in for a long and drawn out kiss. Darkleer obliged, his body still quivering with after-sex pleasure.

“My goodness gracious,” Darkleer panted, one of his hands grazing down Summoner’s back, passing over the wings and finally cupping his lover’s supple ass. “I wish I could return the favor. Truly I do, _Rufioh_ , but so long as my suit is deactivated I’m afraid I’ll only hurt you,”

Darkleer didn’t even care anymore about Summoner’s delusions. The orgasm had consumed him. It had awakened a deep and buried aspect of his being. He wanted to serve this legend of sexual perfection. He wanted to give him everything he had received and more. He wanted to make him happy.

“Let me remedy that,” Summoner said with a grin. He retreated down Darkleer’s body once more, smearing the cobalt fluid all over Darkleer and himself. There was no shame as he took the zipper in his teeth again. He stuffed Darkleer’s flared bulge back into the think spandex as he crawled upwards again. As he covered Darkleer’s slick and sticky figure Darkleer realized something and pulled back.

“Summoner wai—”

It was too late. Summoner had imprisoned Darkleer once again. The suit initiated. The glow came back to life. But Darkleer’s suit couldn’t handle so much moisture. Sweat was one thing, but a little over a quart of viscous blue goo was another story. There was a power surge.

Darkleer glowed bright and an arc of blue electricity shot out and hit Summoner square in the abdomen. He fell back and Darkleer scrambled up.

His delusional lover was out cold, but breathing. His heart rate was acceptable and his fever was starting to break. Darkleer sighed as he scooped him up and returned him to his ice bath.

He owed this troll big time.

***

Summoner’s fever broke two days later. There were no more charades of the sexual kind, but the hallucinations remained. Darkleer managed to start a record of the things Summoner rambled on about, primarily about things this Rufioh fellow and this alternate version of himself had experienced.

It was nice having ccompany. It was even better when that company showed such an interest in loving him. Even better was that this lover was attractive as anything Darkleer had fantasized about. IT was lewd, but he was an exile and he didn’t care much for what anyone thought of him.

And those days with Summoner were the nicest he had in a _long_ time.

Until the door slammed open.

The Queen of Gamblingants stood in his doorway, coat flailing in the wind and hat askew.

***

Summoner was conscious and lucid and _not delusional_ when she had arrived. He pushed himself into sitting position on top of the metal slab Darkleer had relegated him to.

“Babe!” Summoner called out with a smile on his face. Darkleer turned and frowned. Hearing Summoner talk that way to anyone else just broke his—

“What is this nonsense you befoul me with Darkleer? Hmmmmmmmm?” The Marquise paraded forward to take her matesprit’s arm. She rounded on Darkleer. “I never interfere in your quadrants you massive heap of exiled disgrace,”

Darkleer rolled his eyes but the pirate didn’t notice. She was too busy taking inventory of her lover’s new scars and bandages. Summoner swatted her away. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Chill out. Your amigo Darkleer has been taking real good care of me. I swear if we needed a doctor on the battlefield I’d ask him in a heartbeat,” The Marquise nodded and stepped back.

“Well it seems you did me proud once again Darkleer. First this shiny little arm and now you’ve patched up my right hand man. Good, good, we can talk payment latter. For now I must use the little girl’s room.” Marquise Spinneret Mindfang scurried out of the room like a rat, leaving the two men alone.

Summoner hopped off of his table and faced Darkleer. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways, dear sir,”

“I guess so,” Darkleer said, his heart sinking.

“Well then,” Summoner said offering a handshake. Darkleer seized the moment and pulled Summoner into a tight hug. Summoner flailed for a second before reciprocating.

“I apologize for this, I don’t get such wonderful company often,” Darkleer muttered in Summoner’s ear as he loosened his grip and looked him in the eye. Now impulse seized the opportunity. Darkleer planted a kiss square on Summoner’s lips, his tongue prodding forward as his mind wandered.

Summoner would have gasped had his mouth had the opportunity. His eyes went wide. But…

It wasn’t horrid. It was actually kind of… nice? He stopped resisting and wrapped his one good arm around Darkleer’s waist. Mindfang would take several minutes and he’d take this time to repay his doctor.

She returned mere seconds after they broke their embrace.

“Let’s get going dear, the crew get soooooooo dreadful if they’re left unattended in this part of the Empire. So much work to do so little time and all that good garbage,” Mindfang rambled as she head for the door, Summoner in tow.

Darkleer watched him go until he remembered that one lewd thing he needed to remind Summoner about. “Before you leave Summoner, I forgot,” Darkleer approached Summoner and leaned in for a whisper. “If you’re ever in need of a prosthetic to replace the _unfortunate mishap_ don’t hesitate to ask,”

“What?” Summoner said as he cocked an eyebrow. Darkleer glanced down in a flash and frowned as if to say ‘sorry.’ Summoner tilted his head before pulling at his waistband.

“Like I said, if you’re in ever need of my services—”

“That filthy son-of-bitch ripped out my piercing! And he took half of my bulge with it!” Summoner flushed bronze as he yelled. Mindfang turned in surprise to see him take Darkleer by the shoulders and stare him down. “If that nook suckling fucker wants a war, he’s got one! And next time I’ll batter the bastard to death with whatever you’ll cook up for me. Deal?”

Darkleer smirked and nodded. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> What. Is. My. Problem? For Jeremy cause the friends who write you smut are the best kinds of friends.


End file.
